José Esteban Muñoz, Cruising Utopia, the Then and There of Queer Futurity:
The future is queerness’s domain. Queerness is a structuring and educated mode of desiring that allows us to see and feel beyond the quagmire of the present. The here and now is a prison house. We must strive, in the face of the here and now’s totalizing rendering of reality, to think and feel a then and there. Some will say that all we have are the pleasures of this moment, but we must never settle for the minimal transport; we must dream and enact new and better pleasures, other ways of being in the world, and ultimately new worlds.
Jean-Luc Nancy, In Place of Utopia:
However, Utopia as such is determined by a program of completion. Art, on the other hand, only completes the work in order to open onto an outside that it harbours but that it cannot contain. One could say, in a word: the work of art is not an island and the one who inhabits it (the artist or her or his audience) is not Robinson: she or he does not restart a world of her or his own but engages with everyone’s world in the spacing that she or he opens.
Taken from Existential Utopia: New Perspectives on Utopian Thought, Michael Marder & Patricia Vieira
Douglad Coupland, BOHEMIA = UTOPIA?:
…Blank collar means this – and listen carefully because this is the rest of your life – if you don’t possess an actual skill (surgery, baking, plumbing) then prepare to cobble together a financial living doing a mishmash of random semi-skilled things: massaging, lawn-mowing, and babysitting the children of people who actually do possess skills, or who own the means of production, or the copper mine, or who are beautiful and charismatic. And here’s the clincher: The only thing that is going to make any of this tolerable is that you have uninterrupted high-quality access to smoking hot Wi-Fi. Almost any state of being is okay in the twenty-first century as long as you can remain connected to this thing that turns you into something that is more than merely human…
…You can’t really go to the bohemian part of town because it’s gone now. The underground is now up in the Cloud, with its corporeal creators down on Earth trying to enter the grid as little as possible while, at the same time, they’re as deeply addicted to the Internet as is anyone else whose brain has been neurally structured by its interfaces and patterns…
…And it’s getting harder to glamorize exclusion, to romanticize the periphery, to idealize a “bohemian” way of life that is often simply the resulting end state of genetics, brain pathologies, obsolesced skills, unharmonized immigration regulations, failed social safety nets, an art market that isn’t really sure what it is any more…
First published in TEXTE ZUR KUNSTE Issue No. 97 / March 2015 “Bohemia”
Henrik Olesen, Pre Post: Speaking Backwards:
A central reflection in sexual politics has always been about the position of “others” and the
question of who may speak about the “other.” When I try to index a piece like Seedbed
its symbolic positioning of other bodies within the Conceptual art movement—there seems to
be a plain disagreement in the rules of the sexual-bodily exchange. As a gay man it doesn’t
make any sense that you are not supposed to join in when you enter a jack-off party.
I Hear a New World 01. Orbis Tertius is currently on show as part of The Slow Burn, organised by artist Euan Macdonald at Ditch Projects, Springfield OR. Also included are works by Moyra Davey, Tannaz Farsi, Will Hayward, Nick Herman, Colin Ives, Sylvan Lionni, Dan Powell, Roman Signer, David Shrigley, Michael Snow, Diana Thater and Channing Hansen.
From the exhibition’s accompanying text:
The title of this exhibition, The Slow Burn, is a causal phrase used to describe art that opens up continuously in time. The Slow Burn also implies a kind of negation, or an immanent degradation or carbonation of heat, and above all, change. Within the worldly productions of visual art, there has always existed a sense of producing new kinds of tensions to disrupt older ideas.